


Shreya's Conquest

by Abbytheegg



Series: Roads to Skydagger [1]
Category: Band of Blades
Genre: also its gay bc i said so, bc like death happens a lot in war believe it or not, but i do not care, everyone needs to know how much fun this ttrpg is, i get that like band of blades just came out, im the lorekeeper i know what im doing, so don't get too attached anyone, some is exaggerating but its all what happened, this is like a war campaign, this is p canon with the campaign
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:53:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23989921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abbytheegg/pseuds/Abbytheegg
Summary: The legion has suffered a terrible defeat at Ettenmark fields and now is making a tactical retreat to Skydagger Keep. However, the road to Skydagger is long and brutal with swarms of undead around every corner and the Cinder King and the Broken following closely behind.
Series: Roads to Skydagger [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1772551
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	1. Hozelbrucke Bridge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1st Mission after defeat at Ettenmark Fields.  
> Destroy the Hozelbruck Bridge to slow undead advance.  
> Specialists Assigned: Adramir "Skull-Crusher", Count Caius Domitius, Indigo Rising Iron, Kariya "Bear Hug" Danichna, Silver Flowing Tide.  
> Squad Assigned: Ember Wolves

“Do you think we’re going to die?”

Clouds dripped with rain overhead, just enough to leave socks uncomfortably soggy in the soldier’s boots, but not enough to give a good storm and slow the undead’s travel, not that that would have slowed them that much anyway. They weren’t too deterred by weather or the like unless there was flooding. Though no one wanted to mention it, they didn’t think even their plan of destroying Hozelbruck Bridge would be enough to keep the hordes away. The undead would simply find another way across the Tigeria river. They all knew it deep down, but none of them dared to speak it. The last thing they needed was to get scolded by their officer. 

“I mean, probably. But that is okay! There are worse things than death!” To the rookie’s question, the high Zemyati voice of the legion’s finest medic rang out, though it wasn’t like there were many other medics to contest this fact. In her arms, she carried a rig of alchemical explosives and it almost seemed out of place anywhere near her smiling round face. The rookie who asked didn’t look reassured, but she gave him a big smile anyway, apparently unaware of the rain dripping down her face.

“Keep your wits about you, everyone. We don’t know how quickly this situation could escalate. “ Count Caius Domitius was a stubborn Orite man. His blond hair was immaculate as always, even in the drizzle, his uniform clean and pressed, looking for all the world like he didn’t spend the last hour trekking through the mud like everyone else. He was a fine officer, one of the few left after the vicious defeat at Ettenmark. As the squad of soldiers approached the bridge, he turned to face them. This task was a simple one; Rig the bridge with alchemical explosives, get across, then destroy it. It should be easy, but it didn’t take surviving Ettenmark to know that even this task would become difficult if more undead caught up to them. No one would say a word, for fear of speaking their thoughts into existence, but they all believed their fighting to be futile. The legion was in the process of a long tactical retreat, all the way from the western front to Skydagger Keep. For those not caught up on their geography, that meant traveling across Aldermark, a land far vast and long with mountains, forests, and fields. Were the undead not knocking at their door every day, it would still be a tremendous feat to get to Skydagger before fall.

Caius cleared his throat, pulling the weary rookies and soldiers from their thoughts. 

“Now, do we have all of our explosives?” He scanned amongst the rookies for the specialists, or at least the three that were responsible enough to hold them. Kariya merely raised her hand and sounded off an “I got ‘em!” while the taller man next to her, though it wasn’t too hard to be tall compared to her, nodded in agreement before chiming in himself. 

“I got mine too, chief.” The bulking man adjusted his wide-brimmed hat, chewing on a piece of straw. Caius looked pleased that things were going smoothly for the first part. He looked around for the individual carrying the third explosive, but they were nowhere to be seen. So much for the plan going smoothly. He turned towards the bridge, trying to locate the slippery scout. _This is so typical_ , he thought, smoke practically billowing from his ears. _Whenever I am in charge, something always has to come along to ruin my hard work._

Eventually, his eyes came to rest on the base of the bridge's superstructure, where the scout was standing, enjoying the rain against their face. They looked so tranquil in the rain, despite the miserable damp chill. Were Caius a different man, he would have let them have that moment, just to breathe. The last few weeks had been so rough and it was unfair that everyone was so tense when something as simple as getting to turn face up to the rain could bring a smile back to them. But Caius was nothing except himself and as an officer, he couldn't allow for slacking when their job was so important. The rest of the legion had passed by earlier and they were the last unit standing between the waves of undead and the Western Front. He strolled over to the scout and, in one swift motion, clapped them on the back of their head. 

"Flowing Tide, what do you think you are doing?" He scolded, drawing himself to himself up to his full height to appear more commanding. The rookies and other specialists were watching him. He had to let them know that he was in charge of this mission and he would not tolerate disobedience of any kind. Silver Flowing Tide, the scout in question, grabbed at their head in surprise before baring their fangs to him. 

"Hey! Relax, Cai, I was just enjoying the rain. It's been so dry lately that my skin has been flaking. Cut me some slack."

"I will not 'cut you some slack', we are in the middle of a war. And don't Cai me. It is Officer Count Domitius to you." He scolded, a little harsher than he meant to. Composing himself, he returned his focus to the rest of the unit, clearing his throat. He didn't have time for these games. They needed to catch up with the legion in the Western Front soon. He tried to ignore the few giggles that were escaping the rookies as he started to speak. Unbeknownst to him, Silver was gesturing rudely behind him as he spoke.

"Excuse me. Rookies, I want you to start heading across this bridge. Miss Danichna, Mister Adramir, and Flowing Tide will stay behind to place the charges before following off. Rising Iron will...wait a moment. Where is that man?" Caius looked around, in search of Indigo Rising Iron, but to no avail. 

Far above the legion, Indigo sat perched upon the top chord of the bridge, rifle trained below. A Panyar by name, he wore a heavy suit of Orite armor that hid his entire body. If he was marked, no one knew how. He was mysterious in all ways and this fact wasn't helped that he was less than withholding with the rookies and his fellow specialists. Despite his quiet nature, there was no one better for his job. A full suit of armor, even as fine as his, was bound to make some noise. However, his armor was scarily silent, having been crafted by himself for this very purpose. It made him extremely useful to the legion. Not to mention, he could always see the undead before they'd even arrived. He peered down to the far end of the bridge, watching a lone Crow stand in waiting. He had always found the Crows to be more interesting than similarly powerful undead. Their deep midnight feathered cloaks hid them well once the sunset and their masks, made of carved bone in the shape a bird's beak, shielded whatever was underneath. Whatever it was, it also rotted faster than a normal body should, even an undead one. One of these days, he'd love to get up close and research them. Pick them apart, see what made them tick...

BANG!

His shot rung out as his bullet pierced through the cloak of the Crow causing it to screech out one final spluttering noise before falling dead on the bridge. Indigo sat back, smug beneath his armor and he signaled down to the legion that everything was clear. _It wouldn't be clear for long_ , he thought to himself, cleaning off his rifle and resuming his position.

Caius cleared his throat, trying to, once again, regain the attention of his squad. "Yes...Yes, that is exactly where I expected him to be. Everyone, continue with the plan. Rookies, with me!" He started down the long bridge, rookies in toe. They all held their muskets and family weapons anxiously. Nothing like a gunshot to put them on edge. Even Caius' expert leadership couldn't keep a few of them from trembling in fear. At least they weren't squabbling, as often was the case. With tensions as high as they were, it was often impossible to keep new recruits from bickering with each other or their senior officers.

Adramir started placing down his charges and Kariya covered him with a handaxe while he worked, not that much of anything was around. It was slow going, even with Kariya's help of keeping lookout in between advice about how to rig the charges. Neither was the best at rigging explosives, but eventually, he managed to get it set up. "Thank ya kindly for your help, Miss Kariya." He said as she offered him a hand to help him up. Despite her petite build, muscles lurked beneath the bright Bartan fabric of her shirt, and she was able to pull him to his feet. She offered him a smile, starting further down the bridge. He turned to follow suit. 

Thoroughly scolded, Silver Flowing Tide focused on dropping off their charge as fast as they could. The sooner they could finish working and enjoy the rain on their scale-like skin, the better. They scrambled up one of the upper bridge supports trying to find a good spot to place their explosive. After a few moments of searching, they figured the best spot would be on the upper support itself. Of course, that meant the last charge would have to go onto the lower support under the bridge, but that was Kariya's problem, not theirs. Rigging it was a breeze for them; they could have done it blindfolded if they had to. A slacker they may be but they weren't incompetent. With their work done, they slithered down the support and hurried back to the group of rookies.

From his lookout above the squad, Indigo spied undead off in the distance with his special crimson-colored eye that peered through the one way glass of his helmet. Damn, they moved fast. "We're gonna have company!" He shouted down to the group, turning the heads of the legionnaires that heard him. Unfortunately, his yelling didn't go unnoticed and he watched as three Crows emerged from under the bridge near the squad. Between the fast coming undead and the Crows before them, they were trying to cut them off from the end of the bridge. Indigo aimed another shot at a Crow from his perch and in two deft shots, downed the wretched creature. Before the rookies' eyes, the undead rotted away, leaving only bones and its cloak behind.

"I can hear more coming!" Hissed out a Panyar rookie from amidst the crowd as she deftly drew her spear and turned to face a Crow with Silver. The two of them clashed with the Crow, bringing it down quickly, just as more undead arrived. Rotters, by the looks of them. Rotters were the still rotting bodies of the recently deceased, compelled by a hatred for the living and dark sorcery, not to mention a healthy dose of alchemical and toxins. The smell of their decaying flesh was enough to send a normal person running off to vomit, but the legion had grown accustomed to their stench. Rotters weren't even the worst smelling of the undead, though they were certainly up there.

The skirmish that broke out is intense, but the rookies, alongside Kariya and Adramir, managed to down many of the Rotters with relative ease. The air is filled with the scent of blood and the sound of weaponry sinking into squishy, wet flesh. Adramir's mighty war hammer, a heavy and fine weapon, crushed the Rotter's bones, making a terrible squelching sound. Though Rotters tore at his arms and legs as they close in, only a few managed to land any mutual hits on him. The rookies weren't so lucky, but all of them managed to stay on their feet. 

Silver charged the final Crow, but the slickness of the bridge sent them stumbling into the waiting arms of the Crow. "Aw, trying to sweep me off my feet? That's sweet, but I prefer those with a pulse" They swung a fist towards the canvas mask on the creature's face, but a gloved hand snatched their fist out of the air, twisting it away painfully. They ducked, attempting to slip away, but the Crow caught them around the waist, slinging them back towards the side of the bridge. They crashed against the side railing, hissing out in pain. Their red eyes searched desperately for anyone that could help, but everyone else was distracted by the chaos. They sighed and gestured for the Crow to approach.

"Alright, tough guy, let's get those over with." 

The Crow charged and Silver slid down, grip strong on the rail, flipping the Crow over the side of the Bridge. The Crow was sent careening down into the pit below, but not before pulling Silver with it. They clenched their teeth and desperately reached out, arms catching purchase on the sub supports. They could feel the stomach twisting sensation of their arm being wrenched in its socket. They fought off the urge to scream out and focused on pulling themself up the beam. The bony fingers of the Crow were clutching their ankle, digging sharp pointed nails into their flesh, drawing blood. Silver kicked it off and watched as the Crow fell backward into the river below. Silver growled quietly and hoisted themself up onto the beam, leaning against the support and panting heavily. They needed to rest for a moment after that ordeal. Scanning the underside of the bridge, it looked like they'd be able to get to the other side by just crawling from support to support and it looked like they had a clear shot too. Based on the noises coming from atop the bridge, they didn't want to risk climbing up there only to get knocked off again.

Topside, the battle continued on. Though the rookies were quite skilled at felling the undead monsters, more came in droves. "This ain't good," Adramir yelled out as his mighty war hammer came crashing down on another Rotter, it's bones snapping like twigs beneath his might, "I don't think Miss Blighter would waste all these Rotters like this. This bridge, well, it's practically the only way across the Tigeria."

"Your point?" Kariya panted, narrowly dodging a blow from a Rotter. Fighting was not her strong suit, and it was evident in the heat of battle how quickly she tired from the blows. Of course, the Zemyati were known for their resilience—or stubbornness, depending on who one asked—and Kariya pressed on despite her injuries.

"Well, I just think it doesn't seem very smart, tactically, to send a bunch of small guys like this after us if this bridge is so important. 'Course, I ain't the Marshal, but if I were, I would have sent the toughest of the tough for a job like this. And he did, 's why I'm confused. Marshal sends all of us to destroy this bridge and Miss Blighter only sends some Rotters and some Crows? Seems a bit like _underkill_."

Kariya opened her mouth to respond, but before she could speak, a loud groan of pain sounded nearby. Kariya and Adramir turned in horror as they gazed upon the approaching undead. Aptly named, the Horror was eight and a half feet tall, with a body made of the bits and pieces of different people. This one had a large metal plate screwed into its flesh. Where its shoulder may have been if it were proportioned and shaped like a person rested only the melded faces of two or four people, their faces contorted with unknowable agony. It was _horrifying_. 

"You just had to say something, huh, Adramir?" Kariya managed to eke out as the Horror approached, slowly backing away to put more distance between them. The Horror howled in agony and approached slowly with heavy and uneven steps. Adramir heaved his war hammer at the creature, his blow connecting to the solid body of the beast before him. One of the faces began to weep, black liquid dripping down its body as it wailed along with the others. Kariya swung her handaxe and even managed to take a chunk of flesh out of its arm. Unfortunately, the Horror, in its agony wheeled back and, with one of its massive arms, sent Kariya tumbling over the edge of the bridge. Adramir watched on in horror as she made a desperate grab for purchase on anything before she disappeared from his sight. He turned his gaze back to the Horror, calling for some rookies to flank him. 

"You're gonna regret that, fella." And he and the rookies charged the beast.

Kariya might not have found purchase on the bridge's railing, but luckily for her, she had fallen just where the sub supports of the bridge jutted out from underneath the main platform. Her landing was far from graceful, but a sprained ankle was the least of her concerns at the moment. She rose shakily to her feet and scanned her surroundings. The beam she had fallen onto fed into a mess of other ones which made for a convenient spot to place her round of explosives, but not so convenient for climbing back up.

"Well, I suppose this could have gone a lot worse for me." She gave a nervous chuckle to the vacant air around her. When no response came—and why would one? She was almost certainly alone down here—she grit her teeth and began to focus on rigging her explosive. She handled it with ease that surprised even herself, though she did have to sacrifice her handaxe to hold the explosive in place. Must have been easier since she had just watched Adramir do the same thing. With the final charge placed, she knew she needed to get off the bridge and signal to Indigo that it was good to blow. But, seeing as she wasn't going to be able to climb back up without a climbing kit, she was effectively stuck. If she was careful, she could try to climb from beam to beam on the underside of the bridge. As much as she didn't like it, it was pretty much all she could do. Hesitantly, she made her way towards the end of the bridge from underneath, desperately trying to avoid looking down at the rushing water of the Tigeria below her. At one point, her footing with her bad ankle slipped due to the dampness of the beam and she began to fall, the shield she was carrying sent tumbling into the murky water below. She made a wild grab for something, anything to find purchase on. Luckily, in the last few seconds, a hand caught her wrist and began to hoist her back to the beam.

"Silver! Oh thank you, I thought I was a goner there for a moment!" Another nervous laugh escaped her as she steadied herself on the beam. She tried to make polite eye contact but could feel the bitter sensation of frightened tears beginning to pool right behind her eyes and she feared if she gazed at them, she would start to sob and now was simply not the time to do so. Silver seemed to sense her growing stress and offered her a gentle on her shoulder. 

"No problem, Bear-hug. Now come on. We gotta get off this bridge." Silver scouted the path ahead and Kariya followed trepidatiously behind.

They made slow progress with Kariya's injured ankle, but Silver's knack for securing safe paths more than made up for it. Unfortunately, there was another consequence to their crawl across the beams. Two crows had revealed themselves just as the pair had made it to the last couple beams. Silver drew their bow but in such tight quarters, had trouble getting a good shot. 

"I wouldn't suppose you still have your axe conveniently tucked away?" Silver asked, loosing a Black arrow into the furthest crow, who hissed in pain at the burning effects of the injury. 

"I used my axe to keep my explosives in place." She admitted sheepishly. Without her handaxe, she was virtually defenseless. She was the medic, after all; she was loaded down with so many tonics that she scarcely had any room for a weapon. Despite her apparent helplessness, she called out warnings to Silver as the Crows were about to strike to give them a bit of an edge on the creatures attacking them.

It was a difficult task but eventually, they managed to fend off the last Crow, watching the wretched creature fall into the raging water below. They slumped back on one of the beams, thoroughly exhausted. Kariya immediately hurried to their side, pressing a tonic to their lips. Silver downed the thick liquid quickly, feeling the pain of their injuries ebbing away slightly. They gave her a grateful look before, rising back up to their feet. 

"Alright, let's get off this stupid bridge." Kariya stood and followed after them.

Above them, Adramir and the rookies were locked in a fierce battle with the Horror. The Rotters had been mostly dealt with but the Horror was another issue entirely. Caius rallied the rookies to attack in tandem with Adramir and even Indigo, from high above everyone, was taking shots at it with black shot. The beast roared, corrupting green spit escaping from its mouth, burning little holes into anything it touched. Adramir swung his war hammer and, when it made contact with the Horror, bones could be heard splitting inside its massive and mighty body. In the agony of losing such a limb caused it to drop to the ground, causing the entire bridge to shake. Leon Kivinovich, one of the rookies, stumbled backward, eventually colliding with Caius.

From above, Indigo readied one final shot. It needed to be perfect. His gun had been pushed beyond its limit and after this shot, he would have to take some time to repair it. Time he didn't have. The legionnaires were looking weary and even Adramir looked like he had one more hit in him before he collapsed. He trained his rifle and peered out from behind his helmet. The Horror's laboring crawl was surprisingly swift and the rookies below wee staggering back. Indigo held his breath and pulled the trigger. The black shot bullet pierced on of it's faces, blackened blood spraying the bridge. It stayed sitting before its entire body dropped like a rock and it thumped against the bridge. 

"Everyone! Move out! This bridge is going up now before any more of those beasts arrive!" Caius yelled, marshaling the rookies off the bridge. Indigo began his climb down, narrowly avoiding slipping off the edge due to the rain. He could see the glowing figures, illuminated by his red eye. More were coming. He picked up his pace, metal boots clunking heavily on the damp boards of the bridge. Kariya and Silver were waiting on the other side and the rookies were almost there too. He was just causing them to lose time. He watched Caius, who was peering at his watch, eyeing the time as the Rotters and Crows came out of the tree line and made it onto the bridge. When he finally made it, he didn't wait for Caius to set off the explosives. Pulling his pistols from his belt, he fired two quick shots at Adramir's sitting explosive.

_At least_ , he thought, _that will hold off the Rotters for a few days._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally done! Y'all,,,,this took longer than i thought but I did my best asdfghjk 1.5 will (maybe) be up before August. It'll be a shorter since its just the Back-At-Camp scene and the mission phases so hopefully that means I'll get it out sooner!


	2. The Return of the Chosen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Mission since Ettenmark completed.

The current Lorekeeper had been in the war longer than most, though he had only joined with the legion officially in the last three years. He was constantly clad in a thick cloak made of dark feathers and many rookies remarked that he almost resembled a Crow without its mask. Liavel Theonevich was his name and under his feathered cloak, he was a short and wiry Zemyati man. Dark hair shrouded his piercing yellow eyes and he wore the single earring of a Zemyati widower. His routine was largely nocturnal, keeping odd hours in favor of writing in the peace and quiet. Though not the most sociable of the generals (the fact of the matter was, the Lorekeeper had not spoken a word in his employ with the legion. The Zemyati rookies mentioned an old practice of taking vows of silences after the deaths of loved ones), he was the one that kept the closest eyes on the rookies. After each and every mission, he seated himself just outside camp and kept a close record of who came back and what condition they were in.

Today, however, he was crouched in the Marshal's tent with his three other generals. A book tucked up under his arm, he examined the scene. Blood covered almost every surface in the tent, the cot was upturned, and papers were strewn everywhere. Liavel stood and etched out a note on a piece of parchment he had wedged in his pocket. He passed it off to the Spymaster, who hurriedly snatched it up.

He is definitely dead, the note read in Liavel's pristine handwriting.

"Thank you, Sir Lorekeeper. What ever would we do without you." They hissed out, balling up the parchment and dropping it on the ground. Liavel gestured vaguely, a look that said well what did you expect me to say? I spend my time writing in the Annals, I don't know a thing about crime scenes. The Quartermaster took the space between them, trying to avoid a conflict. 

"The fact of the matter is this. We need to find a replacement immediately and we cannot allow the legion to know until we have one ready. After Ettenmark, they've been horribly on edge. If word of this gets out, it will not go well for us. What say you, Commander?" 

The Commander scratched his beard in thought for a few moments, calculating their next moves as a legion in his mind. Liavel wouldn't admit it aloud, but he certainly thought highly of the Commander. At the very least, the Commander was one of the few people Liavel didn't pick fights with. The Lorekeeper was notorious for his dedication to his craft and his Zemyati upbringing. All that to say that Liavel was a very temperamental man. His loyalty was strong, but that didn't stop him from swearing blood oaths to get revenge any time someone wronged him. If there was any deal, promise, or oath to make, Liavel made sure it was in blood, much to the horror of the Orites in the legion who insisted pen and paper would work just as well. And Living God help anyone who didn't hold up their end of a deal with him.

"You are right. I have contact in Barta that I will write to. In the meantime, the rest of the legion cannot know. Shreya still hasn't returned and the longer she is gone, the more of a target we all become. Assuming the undead are behind this," He gestured to mess,"—and I know they are— we all need to be careful. We need to get to Skydagger as quickly as possible. Spymaster, Quartermaster, please come with me to discuss our route forward." The three of them made their way to the tent's flap. The Commander turned back to Liavel once more. 

"Oh, Lorekeeper. You are free to go about your business." He replied before disappearing outside. Liavel nodded and gave the room a final glance over. Anything regarding plans or specific members of the legion were probably far gone with the Marshal's body, but that didn't stop him from gathering up some of the pages. Knowledge was the key to survival and he would not leave any scrap of parchment unchecked or untransferred to the Annals, no matter how insignificant it seemed. Even if the Annals didn't need it, his personal writings would enjoy whatever he found. Papers in hand, he ducked outside, careful to avoid the snooping eyes of any rookies. From there, he buried his nose into the book he was holding and walked across the camp to his own tent. It was rare but every once in a while some nosy rookie would come and pester him—usually asking for a look at the precious Annals— as he milled about. Normally he would be ecstatic for someone to take an interest in his work, but today he wanted to avoid any questioning just in case the Marshal's whereabouts came up. 

Finally, back in his tent, he deposited his book on his desk and collapsed into his chair, kneading his eyes with his knuckles.

"So, how was it?" He almost jumped at the noise but managed to steel himself and only turn to look at the sound of her voice. Dame Mikila Savrelli was a tall Orite woman. She had been a soldier up until the legion's defeat at Ettenmark Fields, where her right leg had been so horrifically torn to pieces that it had to be removed all together. It was not unheard of for soldiers with such wounds to return to the field or to be relocated to laborer force or put on kitchen detail, but instead, Liavel asked for her to be placed as his assistant. It was an odd move for such a solitary animal as Liavel, but they did work very well together.

"Ooh, that bad? Of everyone, it is a shame that it had to be the Marshal. He was such a nice man. The rookies really adored him. What is the plan going forward?" She stood from her chair across the tent to examine the pages he had set on the table. He only gave her a look in response, but she knew what he was getting at. 

"Yes, that makes sense. We can't last without a Marshal and we certainly can't last if one of the rookies finds out. It would be a disaster. 

WIP


End file.
